Cultured
by PrettyxInxSin
Summary: All those years, and Rigby never knew...Mordecai should really tell him these things more often. Fluff. Slash. Morby. Rated K for minor swearing. Updated with an important author's note.


A/N: Hello one and all~. Comin' back for more punishment. o: I think of it as an expansion on Fade - This story is older, I've had it published for a while but this is because I've relied more on Tumblr for my literary pieces - great place, but literature is kind of skimmed over on the website so I'm trying to reach the broader community on here. It also helps the readers here understand my particular characterizations for Mordecai and Rigby, and how their relationship kind of comes to as more details are filtered through my musings.

Enjoy! :'D Translations are at the very end of this fanfiction. Please review, because I love reviews...I mean, fo'sho, dudes. Reviews keep my fire warmmm.

**Update: **Hey, guys! I just have a couple of things I want to say!

1. I've been getting a couple of bothersome reviews that make it sound like I wrote bullshit. Hey, maybe I did but you can at least give me some constructive critique, not a lousy, one-word review? A lot more helpful. Honestly, if I keep seeing this I'm taking out anonymous reviews.

2. I am not an otaku. Alright? I didn't pull out my weeaboo anime book and start translating. Yeah, I don't speak Japanese and I used Google Translate. Sounds stupid? I'm sorry if some words are not direct translations or are inappropriately stated. Most of the words should be okay, just let me know if something got messed up along the way.

Besides, not all Otakus are even like that. Some actually do take the language to heart and study hard. Thanks for stereotyping, by the way.

With that in mind, please do continue to enjoy!

* * *

For the longest time, Rigby had been under the easy assumption that Mordecai and his parents were just your typical family unit, all of the same lineage of Irish or English or some funky history that made them all predominantly Caucasian.

He never raised a question about it for the first little while – then again, how would he? He was seven, had never once seen Mordecai's parents, and Mordecai always seemed more eager to go to Rigby's house rather than play at his supposed 'dinky' apartment. The way his mother would answer with a _'Moshi Moshi?_' on the phone whenever he called in for his friend, or how interested Mordecai was by ancient Japanese samurai and their powerful katanas was just something Rigby assumed to be as a quirky little interest his friend and his mother both shared.

Well, that was about to change – after much whining and pleading and the promise of five solids, Mordecai gives in to Rigby's request, and it's off to his apartment they go.

"Dude, how come your mom has all this stuff?" He opens up an elegant silk umbrella that is dyed with ebony ink and embroidered with cherry blossoms. "It all looks like it came from…uh…what's that one country? With the ramen?"

The raven rolls his eyes, opening a fan and putting it close to his lips. "Japan, dummy."

"Oh! Yeah! That's right! How come…how come she's got all this stuff from Japan? Is she like, obsessed with the country?"

"No…well, not obsessed." He sighs, glancing over at the family album sitting on the counter. "She's Japanese, Rigby."

"!"

"Yeah…"

"Why didn't you ever tell me that? I didn't know she was…that's so cool! That means you're part Japanese, then, doesn't it! Hey! You know what? We're both half-something! That's so awesome!"

Mordecai shrugs, raising his brows a little. What was so fascinating that he and Rigby were half-way infused with another nationality? "Guess so…"

"What do you mean 'guess so'? Mordecai! I've never had a friend like you before! I mean…I kinda sorta never had a friend, but…! I always thought I was the only one…y'know…mixed…"

"I know, it's just…people think I'm really geeky when I talk about my mom's history, or the fact that I think samurais and ninjas are the best things in the world. I just…try not to say much…"

Rigby snorts, picking up decorated chopsticks and eying them with a strong interest.

"That's stupid! I've heard cool things about Japan…"

"You mean other than the ramen?"

Mordecai smirks tauntingly. Rigby turns a light shade of crimson, then grins, showing off his missing tooth in the process.

"Yeah…'sides the ramen…hey! Make 'ya a deal! Tell me about your history and take me to one of those festivals! Do that, and_ I'll_ take you to one of my own!"

"You mean the African-American heritage festival? That only comes around once every five years…"

"So? Yours is once every eight million years, I bet!"

"Seven."

"Close enough!"

The raven sighs, putting down the fan. He never really opened up to anybody about the history of his mother or how she got here – he tried hard to barely say anything about all he knew in regards to traditional culture or habits that he picked up on thanks to her. Hesitantly, he glances over at Rigby, who stares back with utter eagerness and a wicked delight, small fingers clasped around the fine chopsticks.

"…Sure?"

"Yes, dude!"

"Fine…"

A light smile as Mordecai lets the fan back down onto the small table.

"What do you want to know first?"

It took a long time for the local Japanese festival to hit their small city, but they had a lucky year – after doing everything Benson asked, it's getting dressed in the traditional kimonos his mother was nice enough to sew and send [even though she disowned Mordecai at this point in time] the material to them at the park.

"Alright, alright, so how does it go again? Is it…ohiyao?"

He winces as Rigby slaughters Japanese, nose crinkling up slightly as they stride down the roadway in the vibrant night between wooden booths. "No, dude, you're way off. You say 'Ohayou'."

"Ugh!" He throws his hands up in the air, pouting slightly. "Your language is hard!"

"It's pretty complicated. If you don't say something right, you fuck up the whole meaning of your sentence."

"What?!"

"Yeah, man. Each character, every letter…they have their own assigned sounds."

"Well, how the fuck do you even write that kind of stuff?"

Mordecai laughs lightly, shaking his head. "I'm not telling you. I don't think that small brain of yours can take anymore…"

"Shut up!" Rigby huffs, folding his arms in indignation. "At least I got 'good morning' down!"

His protests are put on mute – they approach a small booth with a small, thin man working around to display the delectable amounts of sweets that he's selling. To Rigby, it all looks good, though he isn't even sure what he's looking at – something like a few colorful spheres of rice stabbed through with a wooden stick, some rice being tightly bound together in a triangular form with what appears to him as a thin, black piece of paper going over the top…

"What is this stuff?"

He goes on ignored – the man approaches the pair with a fair smile, one which Mordecai returns.

"Ā! Dono yō ni anata o tasukeru koto ga dekimasu ka?" [1]

"Wareware wa futatsu no onigiri o eru koto ga dekimasu ka?" [2]

"Mochiron! Ōkī ka chīsai?" [3]

"Ōkibona, shite kudasai." [4]

Rigby stares at them with his mouth gaping wide – though he didn't even catch a single word they were going on about, it's merely in the way that Mordecai speaks it with accurate fluency that catches his attention. To say that the taller man was handsome in his right, speaking a language native to his mother and generations before was an understatement.

Gorgeous, even beautiful, were probably the better words to speak of how he appeared to Rigby, sky-blue kimono hugging well on his lithe frame, ebony locks pulled back in a loose ponytail that falls over his left shoulder, and features eased as he converses with the small, old man on the other side. Of all the things Mordecai was and is, this would be the last thing the brunette would've guessed at…

The old man returns, handing Mordecai two well-sized onigiri in his hand. "Kokode wa iku!"

"Arigatōgozaimashita. Ikuradesu ka?"

He smiles, shaking his head and gesturing towards Rigby. "Wa muryōdesu. Anata to anata no koibito no tame no ie de."

Huh – whatever the old man said had Mordecai turning a faint shade of red on his cheeks. If only Rigby knew what they were saying…

"Arigato…"

Before he knows it, the taller man turns to him and offers one of the onigiri to Rigby, old man waiving them off. "Here, dude. Try it, they're really good."

"What…what is it?"

"It's onigiri – a riceball. Just try it, promise it's good."

He takes it, feeling the soft food warm his palm. Curiously, he sniffs it before taking a nibble on one of the sides. "Aw, dude! This is awesome!"

"Hmph, hmph. Told you…" Mordecai bites into his own rather liberally, taking out a good chunk from the body of the food.

They go on, walking in an easy silence and shared bites out of their onigiri. Feet leading them on, they eventually manage to find a quieter bit of the festival by going off-path and settling by a few trees several feet away.

"Aaah…" Rigby slumps slightly on the grass, feeling satisfied. "Hey, Mordecai…"

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you tell me you could…speak so much Japanese?"

"Because." Mordecai shrugs casually about it, glancing up into the festive little lanterns causing soft light against ebony skies, making a sort of blur in their distinction as people start releasing them up into the sky. "Who am I going to speak Japanese to, dude? Only one who knows it besides me is my mom, and she didn't teach me a whole lot – only a little."

"_Only?" _Rigby frowns slightly, surprised to hear that sort of statement. "That sounded pretty legit to me, dude."

A brief pause.

"What were you two speaking about, anyway? And how come you didn't pay him?"

"I just asked him for two onigiri. I didn't pay 'cause he said it was on the house."

"That's cool…but what about that blush of yours, hmmm?"

Rigby pries, bursting any form of 'private bubble' Mordecai has by leaning dangerously close, lips almost able to brush against his cheek.

"No reason…"

"Hmph, hmph! Don't lie!"

"Uuugh…" He groans, rolling his eyes a little and turning to Rigby with a soft smirk. "Well, we are kind of obvious, being lovers…"

"Ha! Thought it was something like that!"

"No you didn't. Bet you thought he told me something dirty."

"Nu-uh!"

"Hmph, hmph. I'm right…"

"Shut up!"

Another pause. In that time, the blue-haired man wraps his digits around the brunette's hand. It's only now, as Rigby looks down, that he appreciates the stark difference between them – pale and tan.

Light and dark.

Tall and short.

Two boys of opposite financial status, of culture, and of color.

How unalike they were…yet…

He looks back up, light eyes glinting with curiosity and a softened sort of affection.

"Mordecai…"

"Yeah?"

"I wanna learn. Teach me some of that Japanese…"

"Hmn. I already tried, dude – you have to learn the basics before I teach you the language."

"That'll take forever! Just teach me some words so I can curse at Benson!"

"Fine. Here's your first one – "

Rigby grins, expecting an awesome word or some epic sentence. Instead, Mordecai slyly closes the distance, kissing him for a long interval of time before pulling back just enough to whisper '_Aishiteru'._

Well, it didn't take that much smarts to figure this one out – it definitely wouldn't help the brunette curse at his boss, but at least he could tell his boyfriend the same thing in his second tongue.

"_Aishiteru."_

_Soft kisses. Fingers lace together and small smiles fit both of their lips._

"_You're learning quick…"_

"_You know me – I'm a cultured kind of guy."_

* * *

Translations:

1. Ooh! How can I help you?

2. Can we get two onigiri?

3. Sure! Large or small?

4. Large, please.

5. Here you go!

6. Thanks. How much?

7. No charge. On the house for you and your lover.

8. Thanks…


End file.
